


nothing's more than you

by mediwitch3



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Getting Together, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Romantic Soulmates, Soft Eddie Diaz, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediwitch3/pseuds/mediwitch3
Summary: In a world where soulmates exist, it's not first words or important words that appear on your skin. Instead, you get words someone else says about you and your soulmate that means something important for your relationship.
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 807





	nothing's more than you

**Author's Note:**

> based on an ask i got on tumblr that devolved into an au, (https://queenginnys.tumblr.com/post/617666834086379520/soulmate-au)
> 
> shoutout to dee for cheering me on while i did this

Buck hates his words.

  


Well, he doesn’t _hate_ them, but he feels like they’re a little pointless. On his right hip he has “you two have an adorable son”, and what good is that to him? Soul words are supposed to help you _find_ your soulmate, but his kinda imply that he’ll already be married with kids by the time he finds out they’re meant to be.

  


It’s not ideal.

  


Maddie’s are good. “You’re dating each other”, that’s telling. She won’t have to wait years into a relationship before someone finally tells her she’s found her soulmate. If only it were always that easy.

  


—

  


Buck knows he’s about to say Maddie’s words before they come out of his mouth.

  


“You two are. You’re dating each other.”

  


He watches her eyes widen, and he scrambles to continue because he’s right and he _knew_ it. He sees them glance at each other when his phone rings and he gets cut off, goes to answer it in the other room. He can’t really hear what the other person is saying or what he says back because Chimney is Maddie’s _soulmate_ and he’s the one who made it happen. He can’t believe it.

  


He goes back into the other room after he hangs up, feeling excited and a little jealous at what’s about to play out before him. Maddie’s giving him a “shut up” look, so he doesn’t say anything about it yet, but he knows it’s inevitable before she tells Chimney and they end up living happily ever after.

  


—

  


He watches as Christopher makes his way up in the line to Santa, listens while Eddie rambles something about sex making things complicated and answers with a glib “you said it, brother”, but he hasn’t really heard much of the conversation ‘cause his mind’s still on Maddie and soulmates. He wonders if Eddie and Shannon are soulmates; it doesn’t seem like they are, but it’d probably be rude to ask.

  


He stands and gestures to Eddie when Christopher gets down and starts back toward them, accompanied by a blonde elf. They stand to greet him, and Buck can’t help the way his smile grows watching him. Eddie picks him up and carries him off toward the food court, and Buck just watches for a second.

  


“You two have an adorable son,” the elf says behind him, and Buck freezes. Turns to look at her, his hip burning. He knows if he looks at them now, they’ll have turned pink.

  


“Uh,” he says, “thank you.”

  


She smiles at him, and he hurries away before she can say anything else.

  


So what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

  


—

  


The answer turns out to be: nothing. He’s just gonna stay quiet. He can’t put this on Eddie, when he’s in the middle of trying to reconcile with his wife. Soulmates aren’t a guarantee anyway. He’s fine.

  


Really.

  


—

  


He’s not fine. He’s really not fine. He hasn’t said anything to anyone, but he knows they can tell something’s up. Hen keeps giving him these squinty looks, like maybe if she stares hard enough she’ll see into his mind.

  


He’s pulled back from Eddie, too, and he feels kinda bad that he can’t tell him why. It’s necessary, but Eddie deserves an explanation.

  


Eddie seems to think so too, cornering Buck in the locker room after a shift.

  


“What’s going on with you, man?” He asks, hands on his hips. Buck avoids his eyes.

  


“Nothing’s going on.”

  


Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “Really? So you’re gonna come for dinner tonight?”

  


“I—” Buck hedges, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, “I’m kinda busy—”

  


“Of course you are,” Eddie snaps, “you’ve been busy for weeks, what did I do?”

  


“Nothing!” Buck insists, finally looking at Eddie. It might be a mistake; Eddie looks beautiful in the blue lights of the locker room, lean and tall and angry. “It’s really not you, Eddie.”

  


“Then what is it?” He sounds a little desperate, his hands out flat like he’s begging. Buck shrugs helplessly, doesn’t know how to respond. “Buck, I thought we were past this. I thought we were friends.”

  


“We _are_ ,” Buck says. He doesn’t know how to fix this. “We are friends, Eddie.”

  


Eddie presses his mouth in a thin line, and he looks away for the first time. Buck’s heart is pounding, and he feels like he’s on the edge of something. He knows what he says next is going to make or break this relationship.

  


So he says nothing. He gathers his strength, takes a deep breath, and crosses the floor to where Eddie’s standing. He leans down to wrap his arms around Eddie, feels the layers of corded muscles under his shirt relax against him, and swallows hard around his aching heart.

  


They stand there for a few minutes, or hours, or who knows how long, clutching each other and breathing deep. Finally, Eddie pulls back, his head tilted up to look Buck in the eyes, his own a dark honey color that makes Buck’s stomach twist.

  


“Come to dinner,” Eddie says quietly. His hands are still on Buck’s waist, a brand inches from where Buck’s words are. Buck sighs, dragging his hand over Eddie’s neck in a gesture he’s not even sure he understands.

  


“Okay,” he murmurs. Eddie’s answering smile is worth the crack in adds in his already breaking heart.

  


—

  


Getting buried alive tends to put things in perspective.

  


Everyone’s been walking on eggshells around him since he resurfaced, and he’s getting tired of it. They haven’t asked him if he’s okay in a while, but they’re watching him. He can feel eyes on him all the time, and he’s two seconds away from snapping.

  


The worst thing, honestly, is Buck. He hovers constantly, fetching him things and giving him these wounded puppy eyes like he’s waiting to get rapped on the nose with a newspaper.

  


He’s also not talking to Eddie, and it’s killing him. He’s around, but he won’t _say_ anything, just keeps the conversation on light and frivolous topics like there isn’t a huge _thing_ between them that they should talk about.

  


Like he wasn’t all Eddie was thinking about while he was drowning.

  


He knows he’s been watching Buck back, he’s not exactly subtle, but what else is he supposed to do? He doesn’t know how to navigate this.

  


It’s Hen who breaks the spell, sits heavily next to him on the couch and props her head on her fist against the back. He eyes her.

  


“What?” He finally demands, impatient.

  


“You should talk to him,” she says. He sighs deeply.

  


“There’s nothing to talk about,” he murmurs, though they both know it’s a lie. She punches him gently on the shoulder.

  


“Eddie, come on,” she rolls her eyes, “we’ve been watching you guys dance around this for years. It’s getting unbearable.”

  


He flushes, grumbles, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  


“He’s in love with you,” Hen says, and her eyes are soft though her words are firm, “everyone can see it.”

  


Eddie sucks a breath, the words on his breastbone burning as soon as she stops talking. He can’t help the way his hand comes up to touch them through his shirt, and her eyes widen.

  


“No way,” she whispers, “really?”

  


He yanks at his shirt collar, craning his neck to see the words that have turned pink against his skin. Hen blows out a breath.

  


“Wow,” she says, “well. All the more reason to talk to him, I guess.”

  


—

  


Eddie waits until Christopher’s asleep and tucked up in his bed. Buck’s still on the couch, rolling his beer between his hands and staring blankly at the tv as it rolls credits on the movie they’ve been watching.

  


He circles around to sit next to him, tries to leave enough space for Buck to bolt if he needs to. He’s nervous, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His heart is pounding in his throat and he feels sweaty all over, chest hot and tight around the words he knows he has to say. He’s waited long enough.

  


“Hey Buck?” He asks quietly. The silence between them is soft and he doesn’t want to shatter it. Buck turns to look at him, hair a little rumpled and eyes so so blue in the light of the tv.

  


“What’s up?” He sounds wary, and Eddie knows he can tell something’s up. He forces the words out in a rush, eager and fearful at once.

  


“I have to show you something.” If he thought his heart was pounding before, it’s nothing like the drum beat it’s tattooing into his ribs now. Buck’s eyes have shuttered, and he’s gripping his beer bottle tight with white knuckled hands.

  


He doesn’t say anything as Eddie takes a fortifying breath and pulls the hem of his shirt up to expose the pink words across his heart. Buck just stares, silent, and Eddie watches the color drain from his cheeks.

  


Without taking his eyes off Eddie, Buck stands. He stumbles, coltish on his ridiculously long legs, and dumps the bottle on the coffee table.

  


“Congratulations,” he croaks out, and he’s starting to look a little green around the gills, “I have to go.”

  


Eddie watches, stunned and half naked, and Buck turns tail and all but runs to the door. The slam as it closes is what jolts Eddie back into action, dropping his shirt and rushing out after Buck.

  


“Buck wait,” he calls. Buck’s fumbling with his keys, and he should have brought a jacket, or an umbrella, because the rain is pouring over them and they’re both already soaked to the bone. He raises his voice over the howling wind. “Buck, _wait_!”

  


“Why?” Buck finally whirls on him, a desperate look in his wild eyes, water dripping from his lashes and his hair and rolling down his neck, “god, Eddie, I’m _sick_ of this! I’m sick of pretending I don’t feel anything for you!”

  


“Then don’t!” Eddie yells, and he’s in front of him now, his chest heaving like he’s been running, “why are you pretending?”

  


“Because there’s always someone else,” Buck shouts, and Eddie thinks he’s crying now but he can’t tell aside from the crack in Buck’s voice, “there was Shannon and then Christopher’s teacher, and now you’ve found your soulmate and I’m still here alone!”

  


“Buck,” Eddie can’t help the giddy laugh that rips from his throat and gets stolen by the howling wind, “it’s _you_ , you idiot!”

  


Buck looks stunned. “What?”

  


“It’s _you_ ,” Eddie screams, and reaches out to grab Buck’s soaking face.

  


He kisses him before he can think twice about it, ’cause he’s tired and wet and he’s been waiting so long for this, and Buck’s mouth is slick from the rain and tastes like spit and it’s _so, so good_. Buck doesn’t hesitate before he’s kissing back, grabbing at Eddie’s shirt and struggling to find purchase against where the fabric is plastered to his body.

  


They fumble their way back to the house, refusing to detach for even a second. Eddie knows they’re dripping all over the floor but he doesn’t care, clawing at Buck’s shirt and pants and throwing them to the ground with a wet _slap_.

  


Later, when they’re soaking the sheets with their naked skin but otherwise sated, Eddie traces the pink words over Buck’s hip, watching as goose bumps break out over his heated skin.

  


“Who said this to you?” He asks quietly. He feels warm and a little fuzzy in his head, and he’s never letting Buck go again.

  


“The elf,” at Eddie’s raised eyebrow, Buck laughs. “Remember when we took Chris to see Santa two years ago?”

  


“Two _years_?” Eddie squawks. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  


“There was always someone else,” Buck murmurs, “I didn’t wanna put that on you.”

  


“Buck,” Eddie whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

  


“It’s okay,” Buck tells him, dragging the tip of his finger from his temple to his jaw. He smirks. “Just don’t do it again.”


End file.
